A Creed Study
by Ayakashi
Summary: Creed is forced to visit a psychologist. He is asked questions that debate his sanity, intentions, and... his virginity? ! A random crack Creedcentric oneshot. Please Read and Review!


* * *

Summary: Creed is forced to visit a psychologist. He is asked questions that debate his sanity, intentions, and his... virginity!

Rated "T" for: sexual references, cussing, and that about sums it up.

Disclaimer: I don't own it, ok? The Black Cat anime belongs to GONZO studio and the manga to Yabuki Kentarou. I own nothing.

Here's a random pointless cracky Creed-oriented story. And yes, in this story it's very implied Creed is in love with Train. Or something.

**A CREED STUDY**

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

The room was exceedingly dim, very dull, and otherwise dreary. The dark gray wallpaper was peeling off the barren picture-less walls, and there was no window for grimmy outside light to shine in through. The room resembled some sort of depressing prison cell or torture center. The only thing that kept the room from being even drabbier and darker was the big wire flood-light that refused to shine light anywhere but upon the metal the table that was smothered with papers.

In all, it was place that had a very lethargic and bored mood.

"_Creed-san_." The psychologist said sharply, breaking the pale-haired man out of his bored and annoyed reverie.

Creed blinked, and looked at her, with a very bored and annoyed expression. _This is so boring..._ he thought. Though by that time it was being rather obvious. _And this is also extremely stupid..._

The psychologist wasted no time. Now that she had his attention, or however much of it she was ever going to get, she began talking. "You are here, because there have been multiple people showing concern about... ahem... your _sanity_."

It was rather unprofessional how she in her chair, tipping the chair backwards so that it only stood on two legs, and pressed the eraser of a blue mechanical pencil to her lip, smearing some of the thick dark red lipstick onto the plastic pencil. She winked at him.

Creed narrowed his hollow eyes. "I am not insane." He muttered.

"We have a record of much unusual behavior on your part, coming from numerous credible sources. Are there any instances where you know that you acted, er, _unusually_, that you can think of right now and without hesitation?"

Creed frowned. What did she mean by 'unusual?' Well, maybe he knew... Killing Saya for _Train's_ sake, bathing in rose petals and moaning about _Train_, taking over the world partly out of his own greed, partly for no reason at all and it because sounded fun, but mostly about seeking revenge on Chronos for _Train's_ sake. And for his own, (though that also depended on Train for the most part,) even though Chronos had never harmed him or done any prior derogatory actions against him. He'd just been _bored_. Like he was _now_. Things were only exciting when _Train_ was around...

"I'm just a very good friend." Creed said, sounding resolved, and he smirked maliciously.

"Very good friend?" The women repeated, and she scribbled something down with the blue mechanical pencil on one of those thin-lined yellow paper packets that only people who worked in offices, like accountants and lawyers, used. Her writing was utterly illegible. Either she was writing that way on purpose, so Creed that couldn't distinguish what her opinion on the matter was, or she just had no writing etiquette and wrote like a dude.

"Yes." Creed thought this fact was overly obvious, even to someone as dull as his psychologist.

"How so? I mean; what exactly have you done to prove this?"

Creed, tired of repeating himself, felt his fingers tighten around Kotetsu. His fingers wrapped and unwrapped around the cool metal, and by simply touching it lightly the pads on his fingertips tingled. How damn obvious was it! Why should he have to repeat himself to such a stupid person? Everyone he knew did not understand-- they were all self-absorbed fools wallowing in their ignorance. _Only Train. O_nly Train was worthy of his countering his own superior intelligence; Worthy of him.

"I've done _so much _for him. Everything. I've even offered taking over the world! And, if he would ask me to, I'd do somuch more." Creed insisted. "I'd do _anything_ for _him_." Creed knew this was true. _Anything_, dammit, to get Train back at his side.

"...'_Anything_,' you say? I wonder... Would you _murder_ for his sake? Is his friendship so strong that you would you take another human life in his stead?" The psychologist said, looking away as she spoke. She busied herself with the task of flipping through the paper-clipped pages absentmindedly, and letting the pages shuffles under her fingers. She now had the blue mechanical pencil between her teeth as she spoke, but Creed was still able to understand what she said.

"Of course,"_ and of course I already have. _He thought, frowning at the memory of Saya which had recently resurfaced in his mind._  
_

The psychologist was erasing something frantically with the blue mechanical pencil, as if she'd somehow read Creed's deranged thoughts. The dark red lipstick which had been on the pencil was now smudged on the paper.

"Now I'm going to ask you a few more simple questions, okay? All you have to do is say '_yes'_ or '_no_,'and maybe explain who you chose that option. Do you understand?"

Creed felt already feel pressure building in the air. But it was only his annoyance, not actual tension or stress. Stupid psychologist , in such a stupid world, filled with so many undeserving stupid people, (with the exception of him and Train, of course. But there was no point in really saying or speaking that though, because it was so bluntly obvious.) "_Yeah_..." Creed said bluntly.

"Have you had sex in the last year?"

Creed gawked, taken by surprise. What the fuck did this question have to do with anything?

"Many young men such as yourself are known for losing self-control and having questionable sanity when they have not been involved in any sort of sexual relationship for an extended periods of time. Loneliness and deprivation may eventually lead to loss of proper brain function, and overall insanity. . ." The psychologist spoke quickly when she noticed the flush come to Creed's pale features, but continued flipping the mechanical pencil between her fingers in a nonchalant manner.

"No," Creed seethed... _Well, it does depend on how exaclty you define _'sex'... he said to himself as an afterthought.

"_Ooooh_. Ok, then." She nodded at him in an almost pitying and mocking was, and checked something off on that smudged paper-clipped packet. The blue mechanical pencil bobbed back and forth as she wrote another set of illegible characters. "And on that topic—_ are you a virgin?"_ She smirked, and by now there was an extremely developed malevolent glint shining in her eyes.

"No." Creed said, feeling rather flustered and confused, which was an awkward sensation that he was not used to. "But this is really none of your business."

"I know that." The psychologist nodded, still looking unusually perky. The next thing she sputtered out seemed even more unrelated, and a disconcerting matter. Creed was even less prepared.

"Was is with another male, and if so were you the one on _top_, and did you stick your— or where you _receiving_ and your bedmate stuck _their_— Hmmm,or perhaps it was actually with a _girl,_ after all? Though admittedly, I rather doubt _that— _"

Creed's eyes snapped wide open, drastically different then the blank and bored look that had been a precursor. His eyes, were angry swirling dark ones. "_I—_ you disgraceful bitch— I shall not dignify you with an answer. You should bow and cringe in my presence. I should have you begging on the floor long before now, so take advantage of my sincerity. I will not make an exception if you repeat that question again."

His right hand twitched. He was now clenching Kotetsu so hard that the twisting patten in the metal hilt was now engraved in the flesh of his palm. He really _did_ have anger control problems, considering how many times he'd shattered or broken things by simply holding them in his clenching fist. But it usually had to do with Train when such a thing happened... It was very often that his fingers found reason to tighten and break things, or slip and let things shatter, whenever his beloved friend was concerned...

She watched his reaction, nodded to herself, clicked the blue mechanical pencil maybe three times, and sctratched some words down onto the yellow legal pad. Creed thought that he saw the words "_likely uke_" but then realized that he couldn't read what she wrote and it might as well have said _"Ex-Chronos Eraser,_" or _"Number XIII._" (In Creed's mind, everything was some way or another directly related to Train).

"Have you ever been in love?"

"_Love?"_ Creed frowned. "What the fuck is _love_?"

He knew what love _was,_ of course, but never, not once, had it occurred to him. Love was another word for manipulation and control, and an utter illusion, for all he cared or knew. It was a feeling that he'd never experienced. So exactly why did it matter here?

"Huh?" The psychologist looked puzzled at this outburst. "_Love_; it is the strongest feeling of attraction. It's when you long for someone more than anything, and when being with that one special person makes you feel best. The one person worthy of being your partner, forever."

_Who do I feel best with?..._ Creed thought, but he really didn't have to think, because he knew the moment he heard it, or maybe even a half-milli-moment before, that the answer was _Train_. It was a mother-fucking blatant _"duh_."

Did every damn question in some way relate to _Train_, or was it a trick? ...But then maybe it was his own mind that made it seem this way?

"Shut up." Creed snapped, losing his temper. Train was too good for conversations like these. Train should be awed and complimented, and praised and revered and worshipped, not merely hinted at. He should be the center of the conversation, not a side-meaning.

"It's none of your business, you _bitch." _

The psychologist raised her brows. "Oh, I think this reaction means..." She wrote something else down. That irritating mechanical pencil's lipstick-smudged eraser bobbed back and forth as she wrote.

"Have you ever felt such a hatred towards someone that you wanted to hurt them, in any way, whether physical or mentally?"

"Every question you ask is a trap." Creed muttered, mostly to himself. "There's always a loophole so that you can contradict me... Who _hasn't_... then again, who cares about '_who_,' it should only be _me_. Because _I, _the great Creed-sama, don't."

The psychologist didn't understand what he was trying to say, but sighed, and nodded anyway.

"Have you?"

"Have I _what_?" Creed sighed. What a stupid question...

"Have you, let's say if you lost your temper over something trivial, have you ever hurt any particular person irrationally?"

Creed didn't even bother to respond.

Scribble, scribbles. No. Cross out. Rewrite. Erase. Lead snaps. Click, clicks. That damn blue mechanical pencil.

"Ok... since you aren't exactly the most cooperative patient, how about we skip ahead to the '_sanity and patient's personal ethics and morals'_ questions part?" The psychologist pursed her red lips and flipped through the pages, now looking slightly hassled.

"Whatever."

"I'm going to create imaginary instances, and tell me how you would react if such a happening were to actually happen to you."

"Yeah, damn, I understand."

"If you were walking down the street, and a person bumps into you and says '_Get out of my way,_' in a rude and disrespectful tone; how would you react? Remember, this person is a completely random stranger, who happened to bump into you first."

What kind of quiz is this? _It's so stupid._

"I'd take care of them. Move them out of my way, and make them regret addressing me such an insolent manner."

"How would you manage to do such a thing?"

Creed rolled his eyes, seemingly ignoring the question. But Kotetsu flashed under the table, and a trickle of blood dripped down the psychologist's knee.

She gasped in shock and pulled away. The cheap wooden chair thonked against the ground with an loud thump as she stood. The blue mechanical pencil cluttered against the metal table top, and rolled a few inches in a general left direction.

Just under where the psychologist's suit skirt ended, a trickle of blood dripped down her leg.

Creed yawned for the thirteenth time exactly, staring up at the looming boring gray walls. "Just a nick of the skin . . ." He said, sounding reasonably _bored_.

The psychologist glared at him, but kept her cool as she pressed a rumpled Kleenex tissue against her knee and continued the investigation.

"I'd stab the freak with my sword, or maybe slay them. Most obviously." Creed answered clearly.

The psychologist exhaled sharply, expressing her distaste. Her manner was now sharp and anxious, if not slightly scornful. Creed didn't like this sort scorn _at all._

"Next instance... You have been trying to accomplish something, and working towards a certain goal for many years. One day a person ruins all of your plans, destroys everything that you'd been working for all that time. What would be you reaction?"

"I'd kill them." Creed said, surprised at his own honesty.

The psychologist didn't record anything this time and the blue mechanical pencil lay absolutely still, (though it still irked Creed, just by it's having it's own mere existence, as many harmless things did). He noted that she'd taken a considerably larger quantity of notes when they'd been discussing whether he'd had sex or not.

"In what sort of environment were you raised as a child?—"

Creed hated talking about his _old _past more than anything.(Except Saya.) Everything beyond the point in his life in which he entered Chronos and met _him_ was pointless and had zero meaning.

"I don't care."

The psychologist gawked. "Don't... _care? _I'm afraid that's the wrong response, as I never asked for your opinion. I need an actual answer, or at least a five-word sentence of sorts. This may have much to do with who you are now and your emotions in the present."

Creed didn't say anything. _I don't care_, he did think, one again, though.

...And the gray walls in the room loomed very boringly around them. For Creed, the desire to jump up and kick something was overwhelming.

"We're not getting anywhere with this..." The psychologist said sadly, flipping through the lip-stick smudged papers once again. "So I guess that means that we might as well sum it up now... _Why do you want to take over the world, and do you think you ever really will?"_

Creed blinked. He had not been expecting this. How had he overlooked such a significant question?

"I..." Creed began. "Um... I..." Creed had realized that he his _'revolution to take over the world'_ had no actual founding purposes a while ago. At the time, he'd thought, "it's something to do. I don't _need_ a reason." There weren't any more sensible reasons that just popped into his head. Besides to gain Train's attention, and to fulfill the greedy human emotions that every single person has, (admit it, everyone wants power, love, and money. Or just Train.)

The damn blue mechanical pencil clicked three times, annoying as hell, and then did a graceful dance across the paper. Even though he hadn't responded.

"And, lastly. Why is a man named _Train Heartnet_. . . why does _that guy,_ this Heartnet-_kun,_ mean so much to—_youguuuwaaaaakgqwxzeh!"_ The second half of the sentence was as indistinguishable as her handwriting. But this time it wasn't her own fault or lack of writing etiquette, as Creed lunged forward and tried to strangle her.

The metal table in the boring gray-walled room was hollow and made of aluminum...

Aluminum is a very cheap and light metal. It has the atomic number of thirteen on the periodic table, and an atomic mass of merely twenty-six-point-ninety-eight. It is often made into hollow furniture, and is used in objects like tables. Anyway, the furniture at the local asylum was very cheap, because no one bothered to give a damn about psychology or psychiatrics, (see, the human brain is too often on drugs and high, or suffering substance abuse like alcohol, these days to tell the difference, anyway), so the table was made of aluminum rather than a more expensive metal, like the metal surgery tables that Doctor in the Hoshi no Shinto had, which happened to be made of pure thirty Karat silver. The metal table in the boring gray room had been installed almost exactly five years ago, in the exact same place that it was now (actually, it had moved half-a-zillimeter, since each year the Earth shifts a microscopic half-zillimeter, and therefore, the table being on Earth, it would've also moved a half-zillimeter too). The table had been bolted in with heavy-metal-type-S bolts by a friendly and intelligent construction worker named Bob, when building the boring gray-walled room. So the table was made of cheap metal, and bolted into the floor.

But none of this mattered as Creed exploded in anger, threw himself forward, unhinged the table and crushed it, shattering the cheap metal and ripping the heavy-metal-type-S bolts out of their sockets.

Her words, playing in Creed's head like a broken reel, were spinning in slow motion;

"_Thaaaat guuuuy, _TRAIN HEARTNET_ -kuuuun_—"

To Creed meant:

"That lowly bastard. Train-Heartnet-who-doesn't-deserve-to-be-addressed-as-"sama"-or"dono"-even-if-we-aren't-actually-speaking-Japanese and is stupid and weakly and unworthy—"

Was the way that Creed heard it.

_HOW FUCKING DARE SHE! _Creed was outraged and abashed. _ADDRESSING TRAIN-SAMA AS "KUN,"_ _AND CALLING HIM "THAT GUY!" OH BE-DAMNED HOLY SHIT,_ _SHE DESERVED TO DIE!_

Creed's eyes bulged. "That. . . guy. . _" _His fingers tightened around the women's neck, the skin underneath his fingers was as easy to press into as raspberry jam. Creed was a very strong man, and after grasping his Kotestu so many times so firmly, and after imagining grasping Train, his grip was quite almighty.

"Die." Creed said.

"_STOP!" _

There is one and only voice that makes Creed's heart stop pounding, the world froze over, and in hearing it, his grip will slacken into a relaxed bliss. This voice is harsh yet beautiful to his ears, and it always makes him so happy and hard.

Anyway, that voice sounded.

(The psychologist was released, and slumped over on the floor, gasping for air, bruises on her neck. But no one really cares what happened to her.)

Creed whipped around, his expression delirious, and struck forward to meet—

_Doctor._

"Uwaaah— _Where's Train?"_ Creed said hysterically.

"Nanomachine-External-Voice-Recognition-and-Simulation-Recessive-Control. The newly created NERV machine. It lets me copy any person's voice or sound, recognize any other external voice or sound, oh, and it also keeps coffee warm." Doctor said, in his usual monotonic tone, walking forward out the smoke, like some awkward sort of mad-scientist-phantom-dude. The low vibrating buzz of the Hoshi no Shinto's helicopter could be easily heard, sounding much like a giant man-eating gnat buzzing on a giant's ear.

"It's NERV, for short. It's my latest and most useful invention yet." Doctor repeated, hefting a small metal contraption up. No one bothered pointing out that it should have be abbreviated 'NERVSRC,' because it was well-known that such a name would be too long and bothersome. Not that anyone would ever refer to the NERV machine as anything but "the Voice-Copying-Thingy" anyway.

Creed felt something like a bomb explode inside his gut and chest. He'd been wallowing in the pits of hell; a dull gray room with an obnoxious psychologist questioning his very sanity, and then suddenly, he'd seen _the light_, and had expected to be saved. The golden, amazing, wonderful, too-amazing-and-wonderful-for-words-or-to-even-be-described "light", (also known as Train's voice), but then— it was _snuffed. _When Creed had heard Train's voice, he'd been hoping the rest of him would be there too. Now his hopes were shattered._  
_

_Oh, Train! Every day is like this, such torment,_ _without you beside me... _No one had ever really bothered to point this out, but Creed was actually quite the sentimental type. He'd lay about for days, refusing to do much of _anything_ but bathe in rose petals and lay in bed all day, moping about Train. No one understood him, or so he claimed. But Creed was actually very much like any other love-struck high-school girl, except... not so much, since high school girls with their little crushes aren't usually grown men that are actually hell-bent psychos intent on taking over the world using Nanomachines and Tao powers, and rejoining with their own partners who helped them with their murdering ways...

Creed rounded on Doctor. "How— fuck_— how _dare _you_ imitate— Train, oh my beloved close friend_, Train_— so wonderful beyond reckoning_—_ How dare you mock his— copy _Train_'s voice!" Creed screamed, sounding very disjolted and if he were having a spasm.

"Calm down, Creed-sama." Doctor said, moving backwards and away. "It's urgent, and we must leave now."

Creed glared at him and swung Kotetsu forward carelessly, and the gray paint on the wall crumbled_. "BWAHAHA!— YOU IDIOT—"_

"His sanity..." The psychologist was saying. "Is so... _fleeting_..."

"Screw that." Doctor muttered. "It's _nonexistent _altogether. But then again, why does it even matter?"

The psychologist shrugged.

Doctor barely dodged another blow as the boring gray wall caved inwards, (which actually wasn't as boring, as it fell). _BOOOOOOM_!

"Oh— looks like it's time to go now!" Doctor grabbed Creed's arm, (who was still standing there in desolate shock and desperation because Train actually wasn't there), and beckoned to Echidonna, (who'd been lurking behind them in the shadows the whole time).

"_I'm_ his doctor." Doctor said lastly, before disappearing. "His one and only. Get near my patient again, and I'll kill you."

Creed slashed his sword forward, in a half-second the blue mechanical pencil lay in slices of shiny plastic on the crumpled papers. "Good bye." Creed said, and then ordered Echidonna to hurry up and shut the damn seal.

The psychologist looked down the two walls that were what was left the boring gray room, the metal tables, and her papers. She sighed, acting as if nothing has happened, and pulled yet another mechanical pencil out of her breast pocket (this time it was a shade of dull red, like dried sparkling plastic blood,) and checked off the last box on the sheet.

It read. . . "_If this box is checked off, it means the patient was either A) Absolutely insane; B) Absolutely gay, or C) Absolutely needs psychiatric help. Take extreme caution when around this person."_

The psychologist read this, nodded affirmatively, realizing that she'd known this all along, and fainted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

(A/N:) Review or the psychologist dies. /bang/

I'd like to point out that whenever Creed-sama talks about Train, (like in episode 12 in their battle), he often sounds like he's having a big orgasm or something. I love how Miki Shinichiro-san portrays Creed's voice, he's doing such a good job! Oh god, I bet when they dub BC Creed's dub seiyuu is gonna suck balls though… /urgghh/…

NERV, the stupid Voicy-Copying-Thingy that Doctor used, has the same name as NERV from Neon Genisis Evangelion! (Don't ask how that's relevent, cause its not.) And Kotetsu is the name of Creed's sword, for all the people who lack such common knowledge.

* * *


End file.
